The Revolutionary From District 12
by Penelope Grace
Summary: Dead dove can't fly. Tomione Hunger Games
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the second part of the Hunger Games AU. Yes, I can't believe that I'm writing this, but I need to remember there's a second part or else I will never write it. Hahahahahahaha, I'm so doomed. This fanfic is called The Revolutionary from District 12.

 _I._

Revolutionaries always began with a whisper. It started with feelings of discontent among the people. One off-handed comment here. . . "We are not treated fairly anymore." Another over there. . . "What are we? We are second-class citizens. Prized lower than their shoes." Then there was the struck realization that the individual was not the only one _angry_. That there were more everywhere.

Everywhere they looked, they saw injustice.

Perhaps they—the ones in control—saw the unrest. But they ignored it. "It would pass," one would say, unworriedly. "As it always does. Then everything will be back to normal."

But this time was different.

The people were hungry for something. After being beaten down all those years and generations, they were tired of being nothing.

District 6 was where it started. Gabrielle was too well-loved to be missed quietly. And her death. . . was not fair. And it would never be.

But they knew they had to stop it from ever happening again.

If it took the fall of the government to make that happen, then so be it.

They had forgotten that while the elites _ran_ the government, it was the _people_ who were the ones who _allowed_ it. And just as a wife saying no to her marriage, the people could tear apart the agreement to make it anew.

Over 70 years of silence and whispers ended with a bloody revolution.


	2. Chapter 2

_II._

She couldn't sleep at night anymore. It had been a month since she left the Arena. In three months, the Victor Tour would begin. She was easy during the day, always running around the District, never settling at a single place—never letting her mind wander to _that place_.

The ring on her right hand became a part of her and a reminder to her every single day.

The days were hers.

She continued to teach the AC12 under the guise of Homework Club. Harry and Neville set up additional lessons on offensive spells. Combat spells. She wrote the curriculum, which was disguised as simple cleaning charms. And of course, she smiled pretty for the cameras and pretended absolutely nothing was amiss, even though the lives of six people were ended by her hands and her new wand didn't quite fit her.

One day, she didn't even throw a fit when Rita Skeeter made a televised phone call to her about the handsome Career from District 2 and asked if anything happened between the two of them. She was surprised by how steady her voice was.

"No, but he was quite easy to see in the dark. A wonderful bed companion really. Didn't even need to curse him for snoring," she said sarcastically. Of course, all the sarcasm flew over Rita's head and fake laughter.

She wanted to strangle that woman. Slowly. Watch her eyes bulge in shock, see the life fade from her eyes, and laugh in her face. Spit on her grave, tear her wand into pieces.

Fuck her.

But the nights weren't hers.

There was no control.

She was twisting and turning beneath her sweaty covers, afraid of what she would see this time at night. She saw the vines twisting her throat, she saw the mutts hunting her, she saw her district partner walking off the platform before the timer stopped.

She never _saw_ him.


	3. Chapter 3

_III._

Hermione got a package 17 days after she left the Arena. It was addressed to Hermione Granger of 3 Victor Circle, District 12. She found a note from Luna Lovegood, the strange Capitol escort.

 _Hermione,_

 _This contains what was meant to be sent to you on the day of the dementors' attack. Head Gamemaker Fudge held it off until the finale for the package to be sent._

 _The package was missed by you when the mutts attacked and Tom Riddle took you aerial. It was only now they were able to recover the package._

 _-Luna Lovegood, District 12 Escort_

It took Hermione an hour to figure out the contents.

In the tiny box was a bottle of a precious liquid. Phoenix tears. She had never seen it before, but she recognized the glimmer it held once ardently described in detail by a book.

With that, she realized with a jolt and a chillingly cold shiver down her spine, _he_ could have survived the wounds. If she had just gotten this bottle. If only. . .

Well. It was too late to dream of what could have been.


	4. Chapter 4

_IV._

Mr. Granger and Mrs. Granger chose not to live with Hermione in the Victor's House when she asked whether or not they wanted to move in with her. They pointed out that it was over ten miles from the district's center, far from where her father worked. They would rather not depend on her for transportation, they said. She lived by herself in a lavish, expensive house. It only seemed to make the house much bigger and lonelier than it was.

Hermione still helped out with Mr. Granger's dentist practice.

She didn't flinch when she saw some of the patients shy away from her wand. They asked for painkilling charms but not for surgical spells.

And she especially didn't look away when her mother announced with glee that she was pregnant, despite being thirty-eight years old. She was nearing the ultimate end of her cycles yet somehow was able to be with child. Hermione's father stood behind his wife, his hand comforting on her shoulder and a small, sad smile on his face. Hermione knew what was the cause of that smile.

The Hunger Games. The sick, twisted, perverted games they made 24 children play every year. Thinking of it sent a fiery rage in the pits of Hermione's stomach. Her future sister or brother might be in that game. Flashes of the footage replaying to Gabrielle's death roll across Hermione's mind. A little viewing party with Rita Skeeter, showing the best moments of the game. Hermione's fingers curled around her new wand.

It had to end. One way or another.

Even if Hermione has to die for it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Second update today (July 6, 2019)**

 _V._

Barty Crouch Senior always thought of himself as a good career man. His son, Barty Crouch Junior, was a Peacekeeper working as a bodyguard for the Madam President herself, and he heard from his son perhaps once a month despite living a few miles away. His wife heard from Barty more, he suspected.

Gamemaker Bagman, a junior gamemaker who joined about two Hunger Games ago, heard the rumors first. He plopped his bagsack over Barty's desk and whispered, "Did you hear?"

"No." Barty had little time for gossip unless it involved himself. He had no intentions of gossiping about his coworkers, no matter what he thought of them. Whether poorly or greatly.

"Fudge is getting sacked." Bagman leaned back with a conspiratory smile. "Getting shipped back to District 3 to work Peacekeeping again."

This, Barty paused at however. Because after Fudge, the only Gamemakers with the most seniority and experience is Barty, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Rufus Scrimgeour. Barty quietly thought it would be Shacklebolt most likely to be promoted Head, because Shacklebolt spent an awful amount of time working closely with the Presidential Administration. He didn't know much about Scrimgeour, though.

"It's only a rumor," said Barty.

"We'll see."

Three hours later, after Barty's lunch break, he sees a pliant unassuming elf owl sitting on top of his paperwork. It held a perfumed pink envelope in its beak.

A promotion was a good thing, right?

Yet, dread crawled up Barty's spine.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: 3rd update today (July 6, 2019)**

 _VI._

The Victor Tour started at District 1. Hermione barely recalled a thing as she was greeted by fake smiles and fake joy all around. After all, who would celebrate her victory here? The boy from District 1 had two parents showing up to the ceremony while the girl had none. Both were killed by Hermione's hand. The Malfoys stood silently at the lower platform on Hermione's left while the right platform remained empty.

The girl came from an orphanage and died as an orphan. No one to mourn her.

The father of Draco Malfoy possessed cold, furious blue eyes as his collected gaze briefly met Hermione. It looked exactly like Draco.

She suppressed a shiver.


End file.
